Дети железной дороги
The hound’s grandfather.
"Awfully,"saidPeter,briefly.
Motherwasenvelopingandaddressingthesecondletter.
"Yousee,"Peterwentonslowly,"yousee,it’snotonlyhimBEINGFather,butnowhe’sawaythere’snoothermaninthehousebutme—that’swhyIwantJimtostaysofrightfullymuch.Wouldn’tyouliketobewritingthatbookwithusallinit,Mother,andmakeDaddycomehomesoon?"
Peter’sMotherputherarmroundhimsuddenly,andhuggedhiminsilenceforaminute.Thenshesaid:—
"Don’tyouthinkit’srathernicetothinkthatwe’reinabookthatGod’swriting?IfIwerewritingthebook,Imightmakemistakes.ButGodknowshowtomakethestoryendjustright—inthewaythat’sbestforus."
"Doyoureallybelievethat,Mother?"Peteraskedquietly.
"Yes,"shesaid,"Idobelieveit—almostalways—exceptwhenI’msosadthatIcan’tbelieveanything.ButevenwhenIcan’tbelieveit,Iknowit’strue—andItrytobelieve.Youdon’tknowhowItry,Peter.Nowtaketheletterstothepost,anddon’tlet’sbesadanymore.Courage,courage!That’sthefinestofallthevirtues!IdaresayJimwillbeherefortwoorthreeweeksyet."
ForwhatwasleftoftheeveningPeterwassoangelicthatBobbiefearedhewasgoingtobeill.ShewasquiterelievedinthemorningtofindhimplaitingPhyllis’shairontothebackofherchairinquitehisoldmanner.
